Point Game
by Silens Cursor
Summary: Harry and Tonks have a conversation, and it turns into something more.


**_Author's Note: I honestly don't know where the hell this came from. Call it an after-effect of watching every episode of Community, or maybe an attempt to write the first meta-fanfiction that's not crack, or maybe just the worst piece of shit I've ever written. I don't know, so I'll turn it over to you. As always, read, review, criticize and dissect this... well, whatever the hell this is._**

_It__'__s __almost __a __cliché __when __she __enters __the __room._

_A flawless complexion, the kind that developers of beauty magic only wish they could achieve with a spell. Hair styled with the lazy ease of a professional. Eyes batting coyly at every whistle. A figure that men would die for and women would kill for. Wearing a pair of tight leather pants that emphasize every curve of her buttocks –_

"Harry," Tonks said sternly, "when you narrate like that, it's weird."

"It's hot, that's what it is," Harry grumbled, Summoning the tumbler of firewhiskey right out of Aberforth's hand. "Damn hot."

"Yeah, but that kind of sexualisation, particularly in _this _way," Tonks countered as she sat next to Harry, "doesn't really fit me."

"You wear leather pants."

Tonks glanced away. "I like leather."

"And it's not like I was going to fixate on you when you were with Remus," Harry continued, taking a deep swig from his glass. "Or when you had a kid. Sorry, but you, with my former professor… kind of turns me off, I've got to say."

"Right, so this is better." Tonks' tone dripped with sarcasm. "_So_ much better."

"What do you want me to say?" Harry retorted, sliding his glass away and swivelling towards her. "You're a Metamorphmagus – you can look like _anything_. You have to admit, sexualisation comes with the territory here, and considering you were actually pretty damn cool at one point, I don't see how anyone can't consider you the full package."

A slow grin was creeping onto Tonks' face. "So you're basing your liking for me off of the fact that I can epitomize any sexual fantasy you want."

"If that's not something the higher powers that created you had in mind," Harry replied, raising a finger, "then they were either drunk or stupid."

The grin had blossomed into a full-fledged smile. "But there you go again: defining me only based upon my 'special powers'."

"That how wizards classify most of humanity." Harry frowned. "Come to think of it, I think that's how most of _humanity_ classifies the rest of humanity. Like how I only remember Eloise Midgen because she had really bad pimples."

"That's profiling."

"So?" Harry snorted. "It happens. First impressions are everything, and for people who are the fringes of your life, it might be the only thing you remember about them. It's not a bad thing, it's the way we are."

Tonks cocked an eyebrow. "Labels aren't people."

"Damn right, but they're a hell of a lot easier to remember."

"So you don't ever get tired of the 'hero card' you always get pasted with?" Tonks asked wryly.

Harry glared at her. "You sound like Hermione, and that's so not hot."

"I'm sorry, didn't know that was my only function here," Tonks replied, rolling her eyes. "Glad to know I'm only here because you work over your issues better with T&A."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Typical defence mechanism, but I digress. You also happen to be awesome, and that's why you're here."

"Flattery."

"Mhm."

"Sorry, Harry, but what makes you think that I'm going to ride your broomstick?" She batted her eyes cutely, and immediately her hair shot into her scalp in a pixie cut. "I could be a lesbian."

"You nailed my professor."

"Doesn't mean I'm not a lesbian."

Harry smirked. "True enough – in fact, it probably makes more sense than anything else that happened there. But nah, you never hit on any of the women around Headquarters."

"Who the hell was I supposed to hit on, McGonagall?" Tonks retorted, wrinkling her nose into a fair impression of the Transfiguration professor. "Not to disrespect her, but if I hit on her she'd probably take fifty points from Hufflepuff and beat me with a fork she transfigured into a truncheon. And couple that with the cat thing…" Tonks shivered. "I may be a walking fantasy, but it's creepy in ways I don't even understand. Do you honestly think she ever did it with another –"

"Okay, new topic," Harry interrupted, putting his fingers to his temples. "Supplemented by the wonderful Memory Charm well-known as alcohol. But let's return to the fact that you're not a lesbian."

Tonks sniffed and gave Harry an insufferably cute smile. "I could be." She leaned a little closer, her lips an inch from Harry's ear. "And the best part is that I'd be damn good at it too. I can supply all the tools to make the parts fit."

"Probably makes masturbation easier," Harry continued briskly. "Tell me, does the fact that you can change your own genitals at will cure you of any sort of penis envy?"

Aberforth's eyes widened.

Tonks chuckled as she leaned back. "Okay, that _was_ cute, I'll give you a point there."

"Thank you," Harry replied graciously. "You may return to your firewhiskey."

"Seriously, though, penis envy?"

"Conversation with Luna, got really awkward, and we're back to you still not being a lesbian." Harry raised his glass in mock toast. "You see, I don't quite buy it that you're into other girls, even if it would be hot as hell."

"You actually sound as if you might have a point here," Tonks said, her expression growing interested. "For once, I might actually pay attention."

"Women hate you."

Tonks cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Basically, it has to do with the fact that you're the idealized fantasy for every sane guy," Harry explained. "By taking any form, you can be anything – and every woman will know that, and thus hate you because whatever they can do, you can easily match it."

Tonks frowned. "Well, what if I'm bad in bed?"

Harry gave her a frank look. "Really, you're going with _that_?"

Tonks slouched back against the bar. "Worth a shot," she conceded. "But still not definitive proof that I'm not a lesbian."

"Haven't finished my point yet," Harry replied, absently scratching his neck, "which is that you are _aware_that girls don't like you, because I suspect that antipathy is pretty damn potent. I mean, I bet you used your powers at Hogwarts to get a guy at some point, and _everyone_ thought you were the school slut."

"See, _there__'__s_ where you're wrong," Tonks said with a satisfied smile as she leaned a little closer. "I didn't need to. Guys were just drawn to my effervescent personality."

"Effervescent?"

"I'm bubbly, dumbass."

This time Harry chuckled as he raised his wand and summoned another tumbler of Firewhiskey. "Point Tonks."

"Thank you."

"Still doesn't make you a lesbian."

"Damn it." Tonks crossed her arms over her chest. "Thought I had that one."

"Also, the pixie cut doesn't work for you whatsoever."

"Oh, giving out fashion tips now?" Tonks winked. "Sure _you_ don't have penis envy?"

"Tonks, last time I checked, I have a penis," Harry replied sternly.

"No, I'm talking about _inside_ you."

"Okay, new subject of conversation!" Harry said loudly, picking up his whiskey tumbler and draining the entire glass, Summoning another from Aberforth's hand that he was fairly certain was intended for someone else. "Namely why exactly I invited you into this."

"Well, you really needed to talk about your penis envy, and I'm available so you can get it out –"

"Tonks."

She shrugged. "Sorry, it's a fun word to say. It's got stigma, you feel rebellious just mouthing it – okay, that came out wrong."

Harry chuckled. "Damn straight it did."

"Penis."

"Regardless of that, it doesn't change the facts why you're here instead of… hell, any other girl."

"Well, in these sorts of things, Hermione's not hot enough to pull off my entrance, Fleur wouldn't pick up on the smarter things you'd say and that would annoy you, the Slytherin girls would get uncomfortably racist and you'd be compelled to slap them and that would be out of character, Luna would make things too uncomfortably real, and Ginny…" Tonks lowered the fingers she was ticking off and sighed. "Yeah."

Harry shook his head and looked down into his glass. "Yeah."

There was a long few seconds of silence.

"Guess this is when things get uncomfortably real," Tonks murmured. "Maybe Luna would have been better."

"Maybe." There wasn't much expression in his voice as he toyed with his tumbler. "Maybe not."

The seconds of silence returned.

"I liked the conversation a lot more when it was about you not being a lesbian."

"We can't always get what we want, Harry," Tonks replied tiredly.

Harry smiled. "Well, _I_ can."

"And what makes you so special?"

"Well, I'm the hero," Harry said, spreading his hands wide. "Kind of what I do." His smile deepened. "And here's a little secret – around here, I'm _God._"

Tonks cocked an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yep," Harry finished with a nod, giving Aberforth a meaningful look from across the bar.

"Wait, this doesn't have to do with that crazy theory Hermione has about how your sacrifice that destroyed Voldemort's horcrux was somehow allegorically linked to some old Muggle –"

"You're using words like 'allegorically', and you're not doing it ironically," Harry interrupted. "Not cool, Tonks."

"Hey, I'm bringing up the level of intellectual discourse here," Tonks retorted, raising her hands helplessly. "I'm meta like that."

"Ow," Harry muttered, putting his fingers to his temples. "You're hurting my brain."

"I'm hurting the brain of God?" Tonks asked snidely.

"Yeah, and it's still not cool," Harry replied, shaking his head with disappointment. "Don't pick on God, Tonks."

"Why not?"

"Because I will dissect your rationale for marrying Remus."

Tonks put her head in her hands. "Oh no."

"You see, given the sexual objectification that you experience at the hands of guys –"

"You rip on me for using words like 'allegorically', and then you come in with 'objectification'?" Tonks snorted. "Double standard, much?"

"Shush, I'm making a point."

Tonks looked up at Aberforth. "We might need more alcohol."

"Basically, it boils down to the fact that since Remus is actually a decent guy who didn't want you to jump his bones for some bizarre reason, you wanted to screw him silly," Harry explained. "See, no big words."

"And proof," Tonks added, in a sultry voice, "that integrity is sexy."

They stared at each other for a long few seconds, and then burst out laughing.

"I can't believe you said that!" Harry wheezed, holding his side as he tried to regain his composure.

"Neither can I!" Tonks exclaimed, holding back a giggle. "Good god, that was stupid –"

"But on a side note, I think that your marriage to Remus is much simpler than you think," Harry concluded, suddenly regaining his composure.

"Oh?"

"You have _serious_ daddy issues."

Tonks' mouth fell open. "I do _not_!"

"Well, it's either that or we take a look at Remus' _wilder_ side and explore all the fun stuff there," Harry countered with a barely-restrained shudder. "Seriously, you might rant against McGonagall, but still –"

"Remus is _nothing _like my dad!" Tonks protested.

"Still doesn't override the principle," Harry said lightly, raising his tumbler to his lips.

"And if we're talking about issues, what about _your_ parent issues?"

Harry sighed and set the glass down. "Really, we're going to do _this_? 'Oh, Harry, Ginny looks so much like your mum, you have a massive Oedipus complex you've been repressing for years!'" He gave Tonks a stern look. "I'm disappointed, Tonks - you can do better."

"Hey, sometimes you have to come up with stuff on the fly," Tonks replied with a shrug. "Can't all be winners."

"But it's so overdone and dry and completely irrelevant," Harry said tiredly. "Namely because _you__'__re_ here, not Ginny, and certainly not my mom, and you can stop changing your hair colour to red to attempt to mess with my head."

"Fine, but only if you say that the whole 'daddy issues' thing was kind of stupid."

"I still hold –"

Tonks gave him a frank look.

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "God will concede this round to the sinner."

"Still doing that?"

"I think it's a winner."

"Of course you do."

"Hey, you like providing dinner entertainment by transforming your nose, I'm not sure I'm going to take your advice on humour."

Tonks smirked. "Mock it all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that my quirky effervescence is the reason why you brought me here."

Harry looked down at his glass. "Yeah, probably."

"I liked you better when you were funny," Tonks said mildly. "Morose and depressed Harry isn't nearly as cool."

"You can't tell me you don't buy angst," Harry pointed out. "You married Remus."

"Yeah, but his angst was interesting." Tonks shook her head. "Yours is just boring and inconsistent."

"Oh, I'd argue with that," Harry retorted. "My angst had similar themes across the board –"

"And now look who's getting meta –"

Harry glared at Tonks as she chuckled. "Somehow you set that one up. You're pissing off God again, Tonks."

"Still not a winner."

"I'm still God."

"Penis."

Harry raised his hands in question. "Why did you say that?"

"Joke was going nowhere," Tonks conceded, "so I offered it a guaranteed exit strategy that still kept it funny and not lame." She leaned close. "And considering you're not getting anywhere near the point, I'm going to keep saying it and keep the conversation interesting, _but_ you won't know _when_ I'm saying it."

"So, surprise penis?" Harry winced. "Ow, just saying that really hurt – okay, stop laughing, it wasn't _that_ funny! Seriously, are we really going to rely on bad puns and dick jokes?"

"Well, you still haven't gotten to the point yet, so I might as well," Tonks replied. She grinned. "Huh, I didn't even think of that until I had said it – it's almost post-modern."

"That term has lost all meaning and relevancy," Harry said sternly, "even in the wizarding world. It really just needs to go away into a dark ditch and never come out."

"You still haven't told me why you called me here." Tonks cocked her head sideways. "Well?"

Harry paused for a few seconds, and then sighed with frustration. "I shouldn't do this."

"You shouldn't get on a broom and goad a Hungarian Horntail, but you did that," Tonks pointed out. "Why?"

"Because this already feels like I'm cheating," Harry said quietly, spreading his hands across the table. "Ginny should be here, not you."

Tonks shrugged. "You can't tell her everything."

"But my gut –"

"Your gut also probably told you that God joke was funny, and it has long since become unfunny," Tonks interrupted, raising a finger. "I don't trust your gut, and neither should you." She lowered her voice. "And besides, do you honestly think you could have a conversation with Ginny about all the stuff you told me?"

"Maybe…" Harry snorted. "No. No, I wouldn't. Namely because those conversations don't happen that way, as much as I wished they would." He shook his head. "Besides, you're spunky."

"Effervescent, Harry," Tonks corrected. "I get called 'spunky' all the time, and it detracts from my plainly evident maturity."

"Effervescent is very hard to spell, and if you're mature, I'll eat my Firebolt."

"I'm sure as hell more mature than Ginny, I'll tell you that," Tonks retorted, leaning back. "You know that she's holding it back, that just behind that stoic warm smile, there's a hidden psychotic fangirl waiting to eat you alive."

"She's not Romilda Vane, Tonks, and you can't possibly know that –"

Tonks sniffed. "Trust me, Harry – a woman can recognize raving insanity in anyone."

"Except herself."

Tonks smirked. "Got to love women, Harry."

"Yeah, or what happens?" Harry snorted. "Seriously, I think Hermione gets dumber and dumber the longer she's around Ron. I mean, they're my best friends, but does anybody really think their sexual tension was good for anyone or anything?"

"I did."

Harry glared at Aberforth. "Okay, _you_ are not allowed to piss me off. Your brother already did bad things to my brain."

"Speaking of brains and Aberforth's brother, what do you think of that new rumour Skeeter's been generating?"

"How the hell can you possibly know –"

Tonks snorted. "It's _Skeeter_ – and it's obvious. But seriously, what do you think?"

"What, that Dumbledore might have been…" Harry's voice trailed off as a thoughtful expression formed on his face.

"Well?" Tonks pursued.

"I guess I'm okay with it," Harry finally said, picking up his tumbler of whiskey. "Just because wizarding society is backwards doesn't mean I am. And besides, upon reflection, it _does_ seem kind of obvious."

"Harry, that's profiling again –"

"Tonks, you get startlingly less hot when you try to be Hermione," Harry said firmly, "and no, watching you make your hair all bushy and turn your face into Hermione's is not cool either."

"Trying to send you a message, Harry," Tonks said reprovingly.

"Purple velvet suit, Tonks," Harry countered. "But as I said, I don't care. The man's a hero. Hell, I might even name one of my kids after him some day."

"Okay, first of all, that's weird."

"Your name is Nymphad-"

Tonks raised a warning finger. "Back off, Potter."

"Fine, fine," Harry grumbled. "Guess I had to try calling you that at some point – it's almost cliché in conversations with you."

Tonks raised her hand with exasperation. "See, there you go again. Just because I'm here doesn't mean we have to retell the same damn story, over and over again. You know what it's like?"

"Like whenever guys try to hit on you, they ask you what your 'true form' is and that when we see it, we'll accept you no matter what it looks like?" Harry asked brightly.

Tonks' eyebrows shot into her hair. "What."

"Hasn't that ever happened to you?"

"Well, yeah –"

"Does it ever work?"

"No!"

Harry's expression fell. "Really? Why not?"

"Because it's cheesy and lame and more than a little stupid," Tonks replied dryly. "Don't tell me you were going to try that line."

"No, no!" Harry hastily exclaimed, taking another swig. "Well, not anymore, at least."

"Harry, I'm beginning to think you have deep personal issues." Before Harry could interject, Tonks took a hold of Harry's hands and stared deeply into his eyes. "What can you tell me? Who hurt you?"

"Tonks, I lived in a closet for the first ten years of my life," Harry replied steadily. "Then I found I was a wizard, but that the man that killed my parents was still lurking around with murderous followers. Then a year after said man got resurrected, I get a prophecy telling me I have to kill him. At that point, I was fifteen. I then spent the next two years fighting –"

"Actually, you spent a year trying to get into Ginny's pants, and another year camping," Tonks interrupted, a frown deepening on her face. "And, you know, not telling a group of people with more experience, knowledge, and expertise who could potentially help you."

"The point is this, Tonks," Harry said with annoyance, "is that if I _don__'__t_ have some form of a personality disorder by now, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are real."

"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks _are_ real."

"Exactly," Harry replied calmly, "which is why I'm likely insane. I mean, could you imagine if a Muggle therapist came in and talked to you and I? We'd probably both be committed."

"Maybe you would," Tonks replied with a wink. "I'd just seduce him."

"What if the therapist was a girl?"

"I'd seduce her?"

"You're trying too hard again, Tonks."

"Penis."

Harry chuckled. "Okay, _that_ was clever."

Tonks' eyes lit up. "Oh, and it fits in context too – and in multiple ways –"

"Okay, this got really dirty really quickly," Harry said quickly. "Let's actually bring this back to me."

"Always about you, isn't it?" Tonks' gave Harry a knowing expression. "Nice narcissism. You and Malfoy could be playmates."

"Hey, you're the one who brought up the damned hero card," Harry grumbled, a scowl splitting his face. "And on a side note, who hands out those damned cards? Why the hell was I the guy chosen to be the 'designated hero'?"

"And here comes the ego trip," Tonks murmured.

"I mean, take a look at Neville," Harry continued. "Hell, he even has the same tragic past." He paused. "Actually kind of spooky, when you think about it… almost as if the universe had a replacement hero if I didn't take up the job –"

"Oh please," Tonks interrupted with a snort. "If you're 'God' –"

"Aha! You accept it's funny!"

"No, it's still lame, but I'm using it to make a point," Tonks replied tersely. "But let's get back to this – namely that it doesn't matter if Neville was a lot like you – you _still_ would have been the hero in the long run."

"Tonks, if my sixth year conveyed anything to anyone, it was that I just wanted to be normal," Harry protested. "I didn't want all this –"

"Hmm…" Tonks pursed her lips and then smiled. "Yeah, I call bullshit."

"What –"

"Hermione was right, you _do_ have a saving-people-thing, but that's not the point I'm trying to make." Tonks leaned forward and gave Harry a secret smile. "You would have kept fighting simply because it was _awesome_."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Tonks, a lot of people _died_. Including _you_."

"And yet here I am, and it didn't make killing a Basilisk or driving off a mob of Dementors or fighting a dragon any less cool." Tonks tapped Harry's chest. "So while you might have a 'saving-people thing', you're more a hero because you like doing heroic things, and really, who _wouldn__'__t_?"

"That raises a lot of unfortunate questions about my mental stability."

Tonks gave Harry a patient look. "Harry, we already confirmed you have problems. We're just narrowing down the source."

"But here's the part I don't get," Harry said with frustration. "If I'm the designated 'hero', why the hell didn't I figure things out sooner? Why the hell wasn't I smarter? And why does my love life post-war _suck_?"

"Well, to answer your first question, I'd argue it's because Dumbledore was being an obtuse dingbat with the whole 'you have to figure things out for yourself, it's a Quest' nonsense –"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, even Ron and Hermione made fun of that."

Tonks gave him a frank look. "Didn't stop you from following along."

Harry paused. "Okay, I see your point. And I guess you're probably going to say that I _am_ smart, and point at third year, and say how it's a great example –"

Tonks smirked. "Nah, all three of you were dumbasses. Great thing about hindsight."

"What?"

"I mean, _camping_ for eight months, when you could have just broken into a hotel, charmed the hell out of one of the rooms to repel Muggles, and then spent your days hunkered down, fighting evil while enjoying a continental breakfast." Tonks glared at Harry. "And England's a big country – if you had chosen to hide in plain sight in a Muggle area, most of the pureblood, Muggle-ignorant Death Eaters wouldn't have a chance in hell of finding you. But seriously, none of you brought _food_, or even tried to call Kreacher to _get__food_."

Harry winced, valid point. "Well, we didn't want to steal –"

"Harry, you were in a war and used Unforgivable Curses," Tonks replied, exasperated. "Honestly, I think the moral threshold was crossed and you could have saved yourself from starving for several months."

"Okay, fine, you can explain all of that, but can you explain why the hell things aren't working out with Ginny?" Harry exclaimed. "It's not working, and I don't understand _why_!"

"Well, I could argue it's because _I__'__m_ the one featured in your dreams instead of her," Tonks remarked, "but I think that's something of a moot point."

"But this isn't the way it's supposed to work!" Harry exclaimed, getting to his feet, his eyes widening with frustration. "If I'm the hero of this goddamn story, why the hell does the happy ending just… _suck_? I get the girl, but it's not happy, it's not fun, it's just…"

His voice trailed off.

"Normal?"

He glanced back at Tonks. "Huh?"

"It's what you wanted, Harry," Tonks said with a shrug as she got up. "You didn't want to be the hero, even though that was the role you got – and when it was all over, you went into a normal life – and in normal life, 'all' isn't always 'well'. Life happens. People get older, the world leaves the dead behind, and sometimes the romances just burn out, gutter away to nothing." She sighed. "Kind of sucks, but that's ultimately what we get when we ask for normal, even with magic."

Harry laughed tiredly. "You'd almost think that with magic, things would be more… well, you know, _magical_."

"That was lazy –"

"It was a joke that had to be made."

"Not really," Tonks replied, barely stifling a yawn of her own. "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you'll find –"

"You get what you need," Harry finished, shaking his head. "And that's another thing – nobody ever talks about wizarding music like people talk about Muggle music."

"That's because most wizarding music sucks," Tonks replied wryly. "It's gotten so bad, people like to think that some of those Muggles were actually wizards." She shook her head. "That's just sad."

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "It really is."

They were quiet for another long few seconds.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You know this is a dream, right?"

Harry grinned. "Tonks, nobody talks like this in real life. But yeah, you'd have to be a real dumbass not to pick up on it."

"So what are you going to do," she replied calmly, leaning back against the table, "when you wake up? You might not even remember any of this."

"Maybe that's the point." Harry chuckled softly to himself. "Wouldn't that be ironic?"

"No, it would make it pointless," Tonks replied dryly. "It's amazing how many people confuse irony for things that are just a giant waste of time. But seriously, are you going to be okay?"

"Eh." There was a strange note in Harry's voice. "I dunno. We'll see. What about you? Aren't you just a figment of my deluded imagination?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Tonks replied, crossing her arms over her chest again. "I'd like to think I'm more than that. Either way, it doesn't matter – you got what you needed, didn't you?" She smirked. "And apparently, I'm still smarter than you.

"And yet we still haven't kissed or made out or had hot kinky sex on one of the bar tables," Harry countered. "You wouldn't even let me finish your introduction."

"Okay, why does everyone assume that sex with me will be kinky?" Tonks asked heatedly. "Seriously, do I… all right, you know what? That's one cliché I _will_ indulge." She eyed Harry speculatively. "I would have rocked your world. I do _crazy_ shit."

"Somehow," Harry replied warmly, "that doesn't surprise me."

He crossed the room and embraced Tonks. She didn't immediately respond, but then she pulled him in tighter, into a warm embrace they both wished would never end.

"Goodbye Tonks."

"Goodbye Harry."

They let go, and Harry walked towards the door of the bar, a door he knew if he opened, it would.

"I still think you're pulling a Dumbledore."

"What, having good conversation that gives you enlightenment and knowledge you couldn't possible figure out about your life or yourself?"

"No," Harry replied wryly. "Screwing with me."

"Penis."


End file.
